Lions and Lambs
by Octovan
Summary: In Kibosh's Underworld, you either fight to be scary or you are eliminated; it's a world driven by "Survival of the Fittest" in which every player has a story to tell. This is the tale of Alder and Dash: 453,697 years of adapting to this madness.
1. StarCrossed Fate

Things didn't used to be this way.

_"Alder and Dash were always the nicest boys…."_

453,697 years alive. 453,697 years of wasted time; of dreadful experience and sorrow. 453,697 years of Kibosh…time was so ruthless.

Life was now a broken mirror through their eyes; images distorted by perceptions, reflecting misplaced happiness through darkened cracks. So many fragments reflecting their environment, yet showing nothing more. Time served as the hammer to smash that mirror, and Kibosh was responsible for delivering that wrongful blow; hence the creation of so many years of ill luck under his stern gaze.

No…things were different once. They remembered the beautiful blue sky, but barely. There was a time when flowers used to smell lovely, kissed by those pretty little insects with the triangle shaped wings. The water used to be a crystal blue; no monsters lurking beneath to their memory. The sun used to be brighter too, blessing all who dance under it in marvelous golden rays. Such beauty was a dreamland now that the humans took advantage of. All the natural pretty things were put to shame in this dreary world.

Things have changed; Alder and Dash had been born in a different era, under different parents with different views. They remembered laughing so freely and laughing and playing, the wind kissing their cheeks through the lush green fields that was their playpen. 453,697 years ago friendliness was not something to be feared or hate; it was simply who you are. If only their clouded minds could recall all of those happy times now.

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Their mother was a dreamer. Fair lavender skin and eyes as green as every blade of grass beneath her tentacles. Head always in the clouds, smiling an everlasting sweet smile. Her disposition earned her the title "Little Lavie" around the ancient Dicephalus swampland as she was considered to be the most precious thing amidst the retched marsh; the one soft flower amidst a sea of weeds.

Their father was an inventor. Tools in hand, dirt on his face, he was a man bound to the experimentations of a modernizing world. He wasn't seen much around the swamps, preferring to work in the Busy North of the Underworld; he preferred the large, noisome city life over one in the country where traditions lasted as long as the vine crusted stone structures built by ancient ancestors. When he came to the swamp periodically, the only reason was to see his beautiful Naveen, the Little Lavie of the marsh; the nomadic moon always returned to the natural sun.

One day he returned to find her waiting at the small hill overlooking the Northern sea, just as she always did. There was a strangely blissful smile on her lips this time; he was curious to find the reason of that knowing glint in her eyes. She laughed and ran a finger through his messy orange locks, expecting to hear them crackle and snap like the roaring flames. A gentle hush met his ears, before she placed his hands on her belly; it was the beginning of a new story, even though it would be a broken one.

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Dicephalai don't mate for life, purely for the reason that their species was and still is considered to be very rare in the monster world; to be united forever meant that others of their kin might not have a chance to successfully breed and put an increase to their low numbers; mating season comes every couple thousand years, the eggs take up to two years to develop and young require about 100 years to raise before they even reach mid childhood; no time should be wasted.

The Dicephalus comes in two breeds: The Bluntsnout and the Flathead. One of each kin is always connected to the same body as Bluntsnouts can't breed with other Bluntsnouts and Flatheads with Flatheads; a genetic mutation that can never be changed. All chicks are born as twins, but all adult twins don't breed together: during the mating season, the Dicephalus undergoes a jaw dropping transformation: they split apart to mate with the intentions of creating new gene pools, and will stay apart until the chicks reach the 100 year mark.

It just so happened that Naveen was a Flathead and her lover Murdok was a Bluntsnout. For two years they watched over their egg dutifully, taking turns incubating it penguin style or hunting for sustenance. Such a duration may seem long for any other monster species, but when you are deeply in love, time is no longer an obstacle to worry about. It served as a harbinger to the heaven's, however; just like in the human world, the stars were marked with horoscopes; every sign assigned to every chick born under it's gaze. Two years of watching the stars slowly drifted by, dismissing every other constellation that their children will be guided under, until the ill-fated Miser constellation beamed brightly in the night sky on the night of the birth of Naveen and Murdok's children.

"The stars are set; their path is going to be a long and misshapen one," The Elder Byron said to them, his ancient clouded eyes squinting hard at the constellation shaped like two feuding dragons, "Greed and pride will plague their minds; it is wise to raise your offspring with much patience and forgiveness, unless you want the stubborn minds of the dragons to turn on you." His gaze slowly shifted to the rustling of the egg, turning to look at the fear in the eyes of the parents. "Do not fear; never let them see it nor bitterness towards their fate; be strong, and the Gods will reward you all well."

The first chapter was about to be written, as the shell cracked open and the bright beam of a glowing purple heart shone through the still-intact birth sack that encased the hatchlings. Naveen and Murdok looked at one another, each exchanging deep exhales before breathing in deep to part their ribcage and flash their own different hued organs at the young. The egg broke a bit more before the sack finally split apart; The first head to make a squeak was the Bluntsnout, followed by his twin brother. It would be a very beautiful sound for most parents to hear, yet this song held the tune of heartbreakingly sad notes to Naveen and Murdok.

"They're beautiful."

Naveen showed her first smile, holding her precious boys close to their chest, listening to their tiny squeaks and running her fingers through the slimy fuzz of bright orange hair of her first son.

Murdok's orange eyes lit up with wild sparks as he grinned; the fears seemed to slip away now that the product of two years of work was here.

"Yeah, they are handsome little devils, aren't they?"

"They're not devils," his darling replied, looking at them; she was waiting for them to open their eyes. "What shall we name them?"

There was no answer; it was something they had overlooked in their anticipation. He waited for her to say something before giving any input.

Naveen looked at him hopefully. "How about….Percy and…Ramzy!"

Murdok snorted, his nose wrinkling at the names; the last thing he needed was two hoidy-toity little gentlemen complaining about every little speck of dirt and grime in his workshop. The naming process lasted for several more minutes, and he was starting to detect the type of names that his sweetheart liked. Every single one of him he shook his head at.

"They need manly names! Or something that won't get their asses kicked for dressing in a sailor suit and reciting proverbs. Names that aren't malarky, hogwash, balderdash!"

Naveen ceased her argument when hearing the last word in his argument; one could see the gears turning in her head. Murdok blinked, not quite catching on to her knowing grin.

The babies dozed peacefully, unaware of the titles they were about to be given for their ill-fated journey.

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**Hey guys; just thought I'd patch some things up to avoid confusion:**

**Little Lavie: Short for "Little Lavender" due to Naveen's skin tone and gentle nature.**

**Dicephalus: The breed name for Alder and Dash's species. In the real world a Dicephalus is two heads sharing one body, so it exists!**

**Byron: The only Dicephalus that, well, doesn't have a twin he shares a body with! I plan to explain that in my next story, so sorry!**

**Bluntsnout: Dash's type of Dicephalus.**

**Flathead: Alder's type. Hope I don't need to explain these two, lol.**

**I really hope you guys will like this story. I appreciate reviews! (No flames though; trolls suck.)  
**


	2. Evolution

Ten years elapsed.

The family found themselves at the little hill overlooking the sea, deeming it an important spot for years to come.

Around this time of the day, after the green Underworld sun had set and the Will-o-Wisps had started to come out, everything seemed so serene and peaceful. But Naveen wasn't focused on watching the many colors of the glowing spirits frolicking in the night sky, nor did she pay attention to the gentle calls of the nightly winds blowing through the mangroves and cattails. Tonight was a different night; a time to watch the slime green waters for any ships on the horizon.

Her children were nearby, frolicking through the muck and trying to snap at the rodent-sized dragonflies that darted about just above their grasps. In the span of ten years, the boys were starting to show signs of their individual personalities as well as their birthsign.

Alder was a highly curious little Flathead, finding entertainment in the simplest of things; he was quick to react and last to catch onto something, but at this age it wasn't abnormal. Still, it was hard not to love his highly affectionate personality and eagerness to discover new things.

Dash on the other hand was a bit more fussy; he disliked a lot of things that his brother did and had the nasty habit of biting at him with his small milk teeth (Murdok encouraged the toughness but Naveen was always the one slapping at his tiny wrists to stop it). He was a stubborn little Bluntsnout, finicky and quiet a majority of the time; it did worry his mother but Byron soothed her many times by claiming that it was just reactions to his brother; in time he will become wiser and grow out of it.

The polar opposites of their personalities was especially strong tonight, since Dash wasn't too fond of Alder's loud squawking at the elusive dragonflies, and in turn Alder was shoving his brother's face into the mud countless times.

Naveen turned around, irritated. _"Hraler eh Dras!" _She hissed in Dicephalai; it was the ancient language of the breed, untouched by modifications for thousands of years; it was composed of mainly hisses, clicks and growls, and was the first language chicks learned before they were educated in Basic, which was the English of the Underworld.

The toddlers paused; Alder ducked his head in shame, silencing instantly while Dash cringed, wailing loudly; he was the more sensitive brother at this age. Their mother sighed, picking them up and returned to looking at the sea; there was still no sign of her lover's ship. The chicks soon settled down, watching for a few brief moments before their attention was focused on the bright Wisps drifting about lazily.

"What am I going to do with you?" She asked her children when they started squirming, only to start fighting when Alder was pining to chase them instead although Dash wanted to remain in his mother's warm embrace. He was snapping his baby fangs together, sporting the slight underbite he wore while Alder was flicking one of his ears, shrieking loudly at his sibling. It made Naveen wonder how different things would be if they were born under a more forgiving sign…

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Murdok arrived much later in the night, carrying a package under his arm. "New tools." He said excitedly, sitting across from his lover and fiddling with the wrappings; Naveen ceased her grooming of the children, bringing her rough tongue into her mouth; it was a relief since once again Dash was fussing over having his hair messed with. Murdok laughed, ruffling the small cap of peach fuzz on his son before going back to his enjoyment, withdrawing a few shiny new tools and a couple of coins.

Alder immediately picked one up and started to gnaw on the golden piece.

"Hey there!" Murdok snatched it from him with a chuckle. "Wanna see…a magic trick!" He had found out recently that his youngest boy was very intrigued with magic tricks, which scored points with Murdok since he worked in a city where stage magic was one of the staples of entertainment.

Holding the coin in front of the child, he snapped his tentacle fingers; Alder gave a cute gasp when he saw the money disappear. With a small chuckle, Murdok stroked his boy's ear, before letting the coin drop from his sleeve back into his hand. "Wow son! You got money growing in your ears!"

Alder squirmed happily, while Dash cocked his head to the side, looking up at his mother and giving a small chitter; he was envious of not getting current attention. Naveen didn't mind, more than happy to sing a lullaby for her eldest child since she loved the fact that he was very fond of any type of music that touched his ears. While she hummed a few notes, Murdok continued to rummage through his new things.

"Good; I needed a new pair of goggles- hey, I didn't ask for two though." He lifted out the spare pair, looking at the dark purple tinted lenses and the hide leather strap. Slowly he looked up, noticing Alder looking at the shiny new object. "You wanna be an engineer just like daddy?" He smiled, patting the chick's head. Alder made a grabby hand at the goggles, gnawing on the metal parts happily when they were handed to him. Murdok smiled. "Alright, you can have them, son." He looked up at his sweetheart, swelling with pride; it was nice to see Alder inheriting some sort of heirloom that he enjoyed, since Naveen had given Dash her old black ribbon since he was fond of it's silky texture.

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Unfortunately, this was the year where everything had changed; the current king of the Underworld had been slain in the civil war regarding a southern section called Nocturne, where traditional zombies were facing a rebellion from kin that decided on using other monster parts to make up their bodies; it was considered to be a betrayal of honor to oneself and the species. The use of water with mysterious properties had been used in part of the ghost king's death, so his son took the throne this morning while the origin of the liquid would be investigated.

As with every new king, the monster population was currently on pins and needles, nervous as to what the fate of their homes and lives would be; the young green ruler seemed to be the type that new leadership and what was best for his land, but only time would tell…it just mattered on how the dice was rolled.

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**Sorry for not updating sooner, but here you go!**

**Note: "Hraler eh Dras" is "Alder and Dash" in Dicephalai.**


	3. Heil Kyboss

That was the year that the nightmares began.

Kibosh was a monster; at first it terrified his followers, but after awhile everyone uneasily learned to adapt, even though there was a silent agreement that everything will be better if the old king came back.

It was that year that all sense of affection became extinct: a new world has just been discovered, inhabited by savage wooly creatures and a race of hairy beings that walked upright and howled like the werewolves. Vortexes were strange things, but not even they can hide from those cold orange and yellow eyes.

"Go investigate." He told the Mothmen, and that was that. They were marvelous, if not strange and eerie beings. Was it really true? That they can foresee disasters? Or fly like shadows through the trees, felt but unseen? Excellent scouts and informants, but not much else is known- it was impossible now to find answers to these questions; from that day on they were never seen again in the Underworld, but there would always be stories of the winged men with glowing red eyes.

The strange bipedal creatures had fire and sharp tools at their disposal, but Kibosh wasn't intimidated; he had spent nights locked away in his study debating with himself on whether or not it was really worth it to enslave a race of dimwitted, savage monkeys. He had underestimated the true strength of man though, when the news came that one of the Mothman scouts was found by the others in a ravine, wings splayed like the crucified Jesus, spear lodged through the pelt just between the eyes.

"They took down a Mothman…" Was all the gargoyles heard as they watched their master pacing even more, looking to each other in silence. "Those shit flinging savages actually took down a Mothman!"

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It was that year that all sense of affection became extinct.

"Now is the time for revolution!" That saying was everywhere, either by words or by visual, but not a single monster really understood what was meant by that: everyone had been told that a new world had been discovered through the use of a vortex, but nothing else was revealed. It was an unsettling feeling, knowing that there had to be something more for Kibosh not to tell. Still, there was a dark entity behind those six words.

Kibosh started to demand more fierce monsters; he knew that those Neanderthals would evolve over time into more sinister opponents- who knew when they had the intelligence and power to use the vortexes to their own advantage? Questions were buzzing around his head like flies to a carcass. There had to be something more about the humans, but his Mothmen could only tell him so much for even they preferred to keep their distance. Still, Kibosh wasn't going to rest easily until he knew for sure that these new inhabitants to that new world were not going to be a problem for him and his kingdom; through slaughtering or not, he will make sure of that.

Monsters began to change. Gargoyles were everywhere, starting to preach of propaganda of the humans- it was the first time the citizens of the Underworld knew about their new foes. They were told stories of pink hairy beings that lashed at their prey with staves of flame and smog; of dirty, sharp nails ripping past skin to prod and grab at the entrails of fallen beasts….of ugly faces with mouths that released a stench that could melt the very hair off your face. It terrified monsters to think that they could be bested at their own game, outside of their element and intelligence. Terrified and angered them. How dare those savage beasts dare to slay monster kin and howl with laughter in the night air!

Yes, monsters changed. And Kibosh fed off of it.

"Now is the time for revolution! Now is the time to unleash the real monsters that have been dwelling in all of us! Now is the time to show our true potential, and we will not stop until the enemy is beneath our feet, claws and tails!"

"Heil Kyboss!" was the response he got. He didn't care that everyone seemed to have trouble pronouncing his name for some odd reason. The reaction he got, every excited repetition of those two words spurred him on during his speeches.

"The enemy is a shameful and pathetic race that dares to stand against us when we only desired the chance to better understand them and their world! Such a disgrace! Savages!"

"Heil Kyboss!" It was a storm he had created; wave after wave that rippled throughout the Underworld.

"Destruction to the enemy!" He always ended his speeches with.

"Destruction to the Fleshies!" was the response he always got. Of course, Kibosh was completely wrong about the humans, but that is another tale for another time.

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**Short chapter, I know. But I hope it pleases. ^^**


	4. Orphans

**I don't know what else to say. Enjoy!**

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"Hra…Yhrota prye." (Mama, I want to play.) Alder whined; he and his brother were currently looking out at the village from the mouth of their small stone pyramid home. It had been weeks since they have been allowed to play with the other chicks or go wallow in the muck, and it was driving them stir crazy. They were getting to be that age where they were starting to be a handful, especially since they were already learning their ancient language; Dash specifically was the rebellious one, having learned some not so nice words from the elders, earning a smack to the head in return for repetition. Alder was no better on his parents; he constantly wanted to go out in the marsh and chase small animals or roll around in smelly patches of reeds where Horned Devil Toads lay their eggs. Murdok and Naveen have been dreading this age where toddlers act like they know it all and can do it all, so the parents prepared for the worse…that being that this was also the time where almost the entire Dicephalus population was in a fleshie hunting frenzy and were even more dangerous towards one another.

"No." Naveen said simply. She had been sitting behind her sons for the last ten minutes, watching as well with her arms crossed; nowadays the familiar drumbeats of the tribal hunting dances were becoming more and more common to hear, much to Dash's delight. He always had loved the deep rumbling of sticks and tentacles clashing against raw leather.

"Haavi!" (Dammit!) Dash moaned in dismay, earning another slap to the back of his head from his mother.

"If you say that one more time-"

"Naveen, just let it be this time." Murdok sighed; he had been confined to his home for the last month and was pissed that he couldn't go back to the North and work in his workshop. "There are more important things to worry about now."

The mother sighed and nodded, gently rubbing her eldest child's scalp as a silent apology. "You're right…" She frowned, turning to look at her mate. "We can't live like this anymore, but I'm not going out to face those…those savages!"

Murdok and Naveen were two of the tiny group of Dicephalai that refused to have any place in this human hunting lust that was plaguing the Underworld; unfortunately, their stance has not earned much praise from the rest of their population. Other parents refused to have their chicks near Alder and Dash; the "Runts", as the chick was called. Some elder Dicephalai even threatened to bite at the toddlers if they even came close to the more "Toughened ones". Alder and Dash's parents were also excluded from village events and even from the rest of the community itself. Combined with the fact that Murdok was placed on house arrest and unable to make an income for his family made things so much harder.

"I don't like this at all." Naveen closed her eyes. "Why can't things just go back to normal? The fleshies are just mindless beasts that can't even form logical thoughts. What does Kibosh see in them that makes them so threatening?"

Murdok looked up from his neglected toolbox, shrugging. "Like I should know…" He had been distracted lately from his own thoughts and insecurities. He felt ashamed when he saw his mate's gaze when she realized that he wasn't paying much attention to her. "Sorry I just…I've just been thinking a lot about myself lately…I…I'm an inventor, dammit! Not a hunter! I don't know how to set traps or throw a sharp stick at some filthy beast! I have a brain in my head that I want to use!" He was equally as flustered as Naveen though so at least they were on the same level… "I'm sorry that I ignored you…I agree."

Naveen nodded at his apology. "This is not healthy for us, and for the children most of all." She looked at her sons. "What king can do this to a child? Make them live in fear or sadness because of his own selfish reasons?"

"Af reiee urstrt." (Fat green bastard). For once, Naveen agreed with Dash's profanity.

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More weeks have passed. Murdok had no choice but to leave at night to hunt; if he couldn't buy better meals with his hard earned money, at least he can try to catch them. It was a bit embarrassing, to say in the least. At first the family had to survive on small catches; most of the food went to the growing chicks anyway. This meager living was taking it's toll on the parents: Naveen was getting thinner and more irritable from her hunger, and Murdok was getting more and more frustrated at himself and the world around him. It got to the point where all he wanted to do was hunt as it was an outlet to release his tension, but at least mouths were fed a lot quicker. After awhile there was so much meat packed away that the four could eat heartily up to a full month without ever leaving the safety of their nest….but at what cost?

They had to sacrifice their own sanity in order to survive as exiles. Alder and Dash were constantly cranky, fighting with each other around the clock. They were starting to get nervous around their tense father when he was in his hunting mood, shrinking away to snuggle close to their mother's belly. Naveen didn't move around much anymore. She found little reason to keep the home clean since nobody was going to visit anyway. Every morning she watched her children and every night she watched Murdok leave to go hunting yet again….so much watching, so little satisfaction. At least she could trust that her lover was not going to snap and leave his values behind to go conform to their barbaric society.

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And then it came. The one night when their worst nightmare came true.

The Miser constellation was shining brightly in the sky; the two dragons were ready to clash again as fate became their treasure.

It was raining. Fierce claps of thunder echoed throughout the marsh as white hot scars tore through the fabric of the sky. Gargoyles had come to visit, dragging their toe claws against the ground all the way; stone against stone. It was a shrieking, spine tingling sound. "You twos. Kibosh wants yous." One of the fat little minions growled, pointing at the parents. Naveen clutched her children close to her chest.

"No…no no no!"

Murdok had snuck up behind them, drenched from the onslaught of rain. His fiery hair hung in his face like a sopping mop, obscuring those bright eyes burning with hatred. "How dare you come to take us like swine to the slaughterhouse!" He had lost all reasoning in that moment; he had to protect what was most important to him.

Naveen had taken the moment to rush into the darkest depths of the stone den. Tears were streaming down her face as the sound of screams and the clashing of skin to stone stung at her ears. She didn't have enough time; the lions were preparing to strike.

She pushed some bags out of the way once she hit the cellar, placing her children in a small crate. "Momma loves you." she choked, running her fingers over their soft, fat cheeks. She had to force herself to ignore the screams of fear coming from her little ones as she sealed the crate hastily and started to throw bags of raw meat against it in order to keep her precious cargo hidden. The seconds were ticking on loudly in her mind; her brain had it's own heartbeat. She didn't even turn back one last time to whisper goodbye as she raced up the stone steps.


End file.
